


All I Needed For Christmas

by PoisonHw



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Absolutely not accurate 1700s, But still pure love, Canon Divergence, Christmas fic, Edward is loaded, Fluff, I don't know crap about London of 300 years ago, I haven't read the AC4 novel yet, I only have the wiki and Edward's Syndicate database entry on my side, I'm French you can't ask too much of me, It does get a bit sad at the end though, Like super rich, Lotsa bullshit tbh I don't know what I'm doing, Secret Santa assignment, just pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 10:09:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17139821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonHw/pseuds/PoisonHw
Summary: It's almost Christmas. Edward doesn't have a gift for Jenny.Time to panic.





	All I Needed For Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Made as a gift to SZolee07.  
> This is my assignment for the Mentor's Guild's Secret Santa! Merry Creedmas everybody!
> 
> The prompt was... nothing, because I'm sure this person is really nice but they didn't give me a prompt, not even a favorite game, absolutely no help at all. Which made this a pain because I'm a real slow writer and I was kinda counting on the prompt thing to help me be inspired, it's the reason I didn't chicken out of making something for someone :( I finished this like, 20 minutes ago. On the last day. It's high school philosophy essays all over again.
> 
> BUT ANYWAY. I hope you guys like this little thing I wrote. Happy holidays, whether you celebrate something or not I hope you have a wonderful time for the rest of your 2018. And happy new year in advance! :D
> 
> (The tags are helpful.)  
> Characters belong to Ubisoft.

London is a long way from the Caribbean. It’s not Wales, either, more people and less small houses like the one he lived in so many years ago. Edward would’ve gone back home with Jenny, found his parents and tried to reunite with his family. But were they even alive? Would they even want to see him? Wales isn’t his home anymore, never really has been and will probably never be again.

Instead, he’s in London; after helping the Brotherhood of Ah Tabai, making amends and understanding the Creed, he’s determined to help the British one. They desperately need it, so overwhelmed by the Templars and in need of constant reinforcements. He wants to be of use however he can, has a bit of trouble getting them to believe him when he says he’s an Assassin. (They still accept his offer. They don’t have a lot of other choices.)

But he has a daughter now, too young to understand all of this and too precious to him. He can’t put himself in too much danger anymore, can’t go out in the middle of the night to spy on the enemy and fight to his heart’s content, as much as he wishes he could. So he takes the disguise of a businessman, taking care of external affairs. Miko is busy enough to take care of the rest. They don’t call themselves Grandmasters. They could.

His mind keeps wandering back to his island, though. It’s not his anymore, he did give it all away. But he misses the company, the warm air and, most of all, he misses the big renovated manor he’d made his. But he has money now. He can afford another. In the city, if he so desires. Wouldn’t that be amazing?

The Kenway Manor in London, England looks absolutely nothing like his previous one. It’s as high as its predecessor was long; somehow bigger, has a courtyard and enough place to house all of the friends he lost. He makes it his with little remnants of his past life scattered all around for guests to admire.

When he takes his daughter to the manor for the first time, her eyes light up in awe. When he tells her she’ll live there for now on, her smile could make him blind in a second. Despite his initial reasons, he realises he bought it for her more than he did for himself.

* * *

Kenway Manor is a great place to live, but it has nothing to do with a gift. Sitting in front of the fireplace, drinking rum in a glass (the way no respectable pirate would), Edward’s thoughts drift to the end of the year. It’s coming soon, less than a month away, and with it will come Christmas.

Panic grips him like a sudden attacker.

He doesn’t have a gift for Jenny.

He hasn’t thought of Christmas that much; if he can get a tree and decorate it fairly quickly, he’s absolutely not prepared for the gifting part. 

He realises that he doesn’t know his daughter this much. He’s clueless.

He never really misses Caroline, not since she abandoned ship before his departure; she was but the anchor to his past life, something to remember his old self by when all else failed to make sense. But in this very moment, he wishes nothing more than being able to talk to her. She’d know. She somehow always knew.

What does a ten years old girl even want?

He could, technically, offer her anything. But what good is it when he doesn’t even know what anything could mean?

He goes to bed, unable to brainstorm at this hour, ready to ask anyone in the morning. He has a mission.

Her tutor is absolutely no help. He doesn’t really seem to know her at all, and Edward wonders out loud if he even actually teaches her… Which only makes the tutor panic, nervous about being fired, and he ends up having to reassure him before letting him go back home. 

There’s one option down.

He approaches his maid next, thinking a woman might be better help, have a better idea of what kind of gift he should give.  
She’s a lovely woman, and he appreciates her enthusiasm, but she has _too many_ ideas. And even if he thanks her in the end for her help, there is no way in heaven he is going to listen to her advice. Jenny already has too many dresses, she’s told him this much. (He doesn’t remember when or why.) She isn’t a fan of accessories, he knows her well enough to be aware of that, and she’s too old to play with toys now. Not to mention, dolls seem a bit too cliché.

Why wouldn’t the daughter of a pirate be able to play with a miniature ship, huh?

He doesn’t even spare a single thought for the pony idea. She can’t ride, and they don’t have the space. Everything about his talk with the maid lead to superficial ideas.

He’s back to square one, still stuck.

His dilemma lasts a few days of asking his entire staff and wondering by himself, and none of the people he counted on have any useful advice. The entire ordeal makes him lose hope.

To his incredible surprise, it’s an outsider who helps him the most.

He doesn’t know Mrs. Arthur a lot, mostly partnering with her husband. But she’s around fifty years old and is ready to discuss when no one else is; tells him she’ll listen to anything he has to say. She smiles sweetly when he explains his predicament.

“Despite your lack of experience, you seem to love her deeply,” she says─ and he nods.

“She’s the light of my life.”

“Let me tell you something, my boy,” she adds. “She sounds like a wonderful daughter. She can probably tell how much you love her. Children are intelligent this way.”

He nods again, hanging to her every word.

“Something tells me she’d be contempt with nothing but a nice quiet night with her father, Mr. Kenway.” She pets his arm gently. “Don’t beat yourself up over the impossible task of finding her a specific gift, and go for something simple. At least, it’d come from the heart.”

That night, Edward doesn’t drink rum, doesn’t sit in front of the fireplace, simply starts thinking about his game plan. Christmas is only a few days away, and he has to think and act fast. There isn’t even a tree anywhere in the house! He doesn’t have decorations for that inexistent tree. The staff might want to go home, at least for the night of Christmas Eve and the whole following day. He’s not a monster. He’s planning on letting them go.

He can tell Jenny is suspicious; she seemed, at first, disappointed each time she looked at the main room of the manor and saw nothing. Now she looks at him like she _knows_ he’s plotting. She undoubtedly does.

He’s ready when it comes to the food. The setup will get there. But still, despite everything, he can’t help but think he needs to do something for her. And, contrary to his past self, all stressed and lost, he has just the idea.

* * *

Jenny comes out of her room on the morning of the 24th, dressed and ready to get breakfast, only to come face to face with a whirlwind of green after going down the stairs. She stays frozen in front of it for a few seconds as it moves a bit before straightening up on its stand. And then her father’s face comes out of it as he steps away and spots her, a bright smile adorning his face.

“Oh, you’re awake! Good morning!”

“Good… morning? What is that?” she says, pointing a finger at the tree.

He blinks, once, twice, turns to face it again, and jumps.

“Oh, right!” He approaches her, his face becoming serious. “Jennifer Scott, would you do me the honour of decorating this wonderful tree with me on the night of Christmas Eve?”

She giggles at his antics, and mockingly salutes. “It would be my pleasure, sir.”

“Perfect!” He claps his hands. “Additionally, I will send home any member of the staff who wants to go, so it’ll probably be only us. Would it be too terrible to eat cold snacks while trying to make this green monster presentable?”

If possible, Jenny smiles even bigger and loses all formalities. “That sounds great!”

Edward gives her a smile back. “Wonderful! I’ll take care of some work and I’ll see you later,” he says, kissing her forehead and grabbing his coat, winking before disappearing out the door.

He comes back hours later, as the night falls early in the winter, arms full of shining ornaments for the tree; and even crafting supplies to make their own. He feels like a child again, and she manages to really live her young life. The snack are made by Edward himself and aren’t half bad, but she makes him swear to never touch the kitchen again unless it’s absolutely necessary.

In the dead of night, when the tree is fully decorated and the snacks have all been devoured, they sit on the floor in front of the lit fireplace, backs against the couch, enjoying the calmness of their current situation.

Edward breaks it gently, putting a hand in his pocket and taking out a box. He turns to her, and she looks at him, curious.

“I had trouble finding you a gift for this Christmas…”

“All of this, is a great gift, actually,” she says in a smile.

“That _was_ the advice of an old lady I met,” he chuckles. “But I decided to get you something anyway.”

He gives her the box, and Jenny slowly and carefully takes it. Opening it, she finds a golden locket. It’s a bit too big in her opinion, clearly not meant to be hanging on her neck. Gently, she opens it and finds a picture of her mother inside. It’s very obviously a painting, but it looks recent, almost like it was made a few days ago to copy another one.

Caroline is looking at her, young and full of life. A smile adorns her face, and she looks happier than Jennifer has ever seen her. Her eyes start to tear up, and she turns to face Edward; but he’s looking at the fire again.

“Back in Nassau, I had the original with me. It was a pain to keep it intact with a life such as mine, I’ll tell you that. But she was always there, in a way, even after the letters stopped and the love started to fade,” he says, almost in a whisper. “The memory of Caroline kept me sane. We did marry out of love, your grandfather disapproved greatly of a poor bloke like me.”

She gulps.

“The love isn’t there anymore, and I know she lost it too. But you’re still the result of this love. I know you don’t have anything left to remember her by.” He turns to her daughter. “She looks extremely happy here. You need this more than I do.”

Tears fall down her cheeks and she jumps on him, almost strangling him with the force of her hug.

“I love you, Dad,” she whispers, without needing to thank him.

He smiles. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

_Merry Christmas._


End file.
